


Coldness

by nedflanders



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: No Fluff, Not Really Angst Either, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 15:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nedflanders/pseuds/nedflanders
Summary: No other Slytherins had to stay at the castle over the holidays and it left Tom standing in a deafening silence. The peace he so often craved seemed to only coexist with the noises evoked by his housemates. He would not go as far as to say he was missing them though. He did not.





	Coldness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one shot for the "25 Days of Yule Challenge" on tumblr. It takes place during Tom's time at Hogwarts.

The light pouring in through the high windows already illuminated the common room in a dark green hue when Tom came back from dinner. The large room was vacant. No other Slytherins had to stay at the castle over the holidays and it left Tom standing in a deafening silence. The peace he so often craved seemed to only coexist with the noises evoked by his housemates. He would not go as far as to say he was missing them though. He did not.

When he first arrived at Hogwarts five years ago, Tom had been full of excitement and pride to enter a world that was so much more his own, and secretly, a part of him had hoped to find his happy-ending to the years spent in isolation in the orphanage, surrounded by muggles. He had always known that he was special, and he was proven right when Dumbledore visited him. Dumbledore of all people.

If only his naive young self had known the truth of this world.

It did not matter that when Tom was sorted into Slytherin that he was already good at magic, nor would the students believe him when he told them that he could talk to snakes. The only thing that mattered to them was that they now had a mudblood among them. A muggleborn, someone with no magical background whatsoever. His alienation continued and with time his resolve to ignore them faded into nothingness and he made sure they understood that he was indeed special. The professors did not notice anything suspicious, only that the quiet boy had formed many bonds within his house.

Tom made his way over to the large wall made of glass. The lake was darker in winter, now that the surface was frozen and covered by a thick layer of snow. The water was unmoving and appeared to be endless in the darkness. Tom sighed and closed his eyes, trying to find the calm of this room within himself.

The Great Hall had been filled with only a handful of students, mostly younger ones, as well as teachers who seemed far too happy to attend the feast. And a feast it had been, if only smaller than usual. Another standard that had changed for Tom since coming to Hogwarts. Food was expensive in the muggle world, the orphanage could afford the bare minimum and younger children always got more to eat than the older ones, which left Tom almost always hungry. The richness of the food here however, was almost insulting.

In his first year Professor Dippet had made him go back to the orphanage during the holidays, not believing his stories about what the muggle world really was like. When Tom went back in robes and dragon-skin gloves he realized nothing had changed, although everything was now different.

The orphans had not missed him, he knew, but that was the only mutual thing there was. They were wary of him even more so now. Tom had continued his previous routine of avoiding the others and even stopped with his games, Dumbledore had warned him of. That however, seemed to had given some of the children new found bravery as they one day searched in his room for the things they had noticed he was fond of. The shock of seeing his room in such a messed up state, his belongings littered across the floor, had fueled an accidental fire as Tom was uable to hold back his rage.

There was no evidence that he was the reason for it. But they _knew_. Mrs Cole had taken away his „demonic“ books as a form of punishment, there was nothing else she could have done. But Tom had seen the fear in her eyes whenever he was even in the same room as her. It was the only satisfaction that he got.

When Tom opened his eyes again he was looking right into the ones of his reflection in the glass. The lake was so dark that the windows had turned into mirrors. He could not look away, he did not want to. This was the way everyone saw him: pale, dark hair, dark eyes. Some even went so far as to call him pretty. But they did not see _him_. How could they not notice what there was to him? Why was he still lacking in aspects he could not even pin-point? How was it possible for him to still be on his own? Why did they have families and he did not even know his parents?

They did not deserve it. Tom's eyes flashed red as the anger was boiling underneath his skin. With a furious scream he slammed his hand against the glass. He hit the window again and again but it did nothing to soothe his rage. He took out his wand and threw curses at the glass but it only vibrated under his assault. Tom continued to attack but his violence could not be satisfied and the bloody glass would not shatter. He only stopped when his wrist started to ache. Tom tried to calm down. His breath came out ragged and seemed far too loud in the quiet of the room. He felt utterly exhausted, his frustration only seemed to make it worse.

He was standing in a school of magic, in the house of his ancestor. This was his home. His rightful place to be. And yet he had no one.

He was all alone.

**Author's Note:**

> this story was proofread by rebeccafultz-blog on tumblr :)  
> I hope you liked it!


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